Free Lord Greywell's Dilemma by Laura Matthews Page B

the average, Papa, as you would know if you ever bothered to listen to one of them. He expects Christian behavior from the rich and the poor alike. In fact, if anything, he expects the highborn to set an example for their less fortunate neighbors.”
    “He expects a great deal too much,” Sir Edward retorted, helping himself to another serving of the saddle of mutton. Turning to Greywell, he asked, “What sort of fellow do you have in your parish? Do you have the living in your gift?”
    “Yes. We have an older man, a gentle soul, not given to ranting about anything at all.” He surveyed the crimped cod with oyster sauce before tentatively taking a bite of it. “Very nice. My cook isn’t much of a hand at crimped cod.”
    “Elspeth can bring the receipt,” Sir Edward generously offered.
    Greywell met her eyes over the low arrangement of flowers between them and smiled his sympathy. He was finding it difficult to know which of them to feel in charity with, since the conversation took so many unexpected turns. When she failed to acknowledge his commiseration, he returned his gaze to his plate and took another bite of the cod. The best thing he could do, he decided, was leave Lyndhurst first thing in the morning. That would alleviate Miss Parkstone’s discomfort, and put him out of range of Sir Edward’s dubious plotting.
    “Well, I’m off.” Sir Edward announced suddenly, standing abruptly and waving Greywell to remain seated. “Elspeth will entertain you, my lord. She’s quite proficient at the pianoforte.”
    And without another word, though carefully avoiding his daughter’s eyes, he left the room.
    Greywell stared after him, uncomprehending. Slowly his eyes moved back to Miss Parkstone, who sat rigid in her chair, a deep flush having invaded her cheeks. Her chin was high, all the same, and she addressed him with a calm born of something like desperation. “My father doesn’t find it necessary to abide by normal rules for polite society, Lord Greywell. I hope you will forgive his . . . unusual departure. No doubt he has some urgent business which takes him off at such a time.”
    “Hogwash! His intention is perfectly clear. He’s leaving us alone to get better ‘acquainted.’ The man is a menace to society.”
    “He means well.”
    “Is this the sort of thing he does often?”
    Elspeth met his angry gaze. “No. Generally his behavior is unexceptionable . . . at home. Or at least, with company. Oh, you know what I mean. He doesn’t give much weight to other people’s opinions of him, but as a matter of course he behaves as one would expect. Please don’t feel constrained to remain here with me. It’s but a short ride into Aylesbury, where there is diversion to be found. You might wish to finish your meal first.”
    “I have every intention of finishing my meal.” Greywell could not recall a previous occasion on which he’d felt so entirely disgruntled. His companion. however, seemed to be taking the matter in stride now, forking a bite of mutton as the high color faded from her cheeks.
    What would it be like to be in her position, living with a ramshackle fellow like Sir Edward? It was a wonder to him that she appeared to wish to stay here. He would have expected her to welcome himself (or any one of the alleged suitors) with open arms, for the sake of being rescued from a life of confusion, embarrassment, and downright neglect. Maybe she was as perverse as she had previously hinted.
    The third course came with an apple custard and a cabinet pudding after the jugged hare. Greywell noticed that his companion had nothing but a tablespoonful of the custard with a minuscule glob of whipped cream, which she barely tasted before sitting back in her chair and nodding to the waiting footman to remove her plate. There was nothing wrong with the custard, he found; in fact, it was superb. Apparently Miss Parkstone had made a decision, because she regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, dismissed the